


Stella Creationem

by bubblewrapstargirl



Series: One Shots [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Birth (non-graphic), Baptism, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Bliss, Future Fic, Gen, Grumpy Dean, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Mpreg, Nephilim, Oblivious Castiel, Pregnancy, Pregnant Castiel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Worried Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblewrapstargirl/pseuds/bubblewrapstargirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1649387">Slice of (Apple Pie) Life</a>.</p><p>Sam tries his best to comprehend angel pregnancy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stella Creationem

Cas’ pregnancy didn’t progress like a human one. For one thing, he didn’t begin to show until he was far further in than a human woman. It is his true form which is ‘swollen with grace’. The baby's human form, which they weren’t even 100% sure Cas would have the ability to help create, hadn’t been formed yet. Sam had been privately worried that Cas was going to give birth to a ball of light Dean wouldn’t be able to parent. Subsequently, Sam had spent most days with his nose buried in one of the few non-biblical references to nephilim he’d managed to find in the bunker, in preparation for their upcoming bundle of hopefully humanoid joy.

On one such afternoon, Cas had wandered in.

“Uh, Cas? Everything okay?” Sam asked, because Cas had really gotten quite good at human interaction - or at least, interacting with the Winchesters - in the last few years. It was pretty out of character for him to just waddle in, wordlessly take hold of Sam’s sleeve and drag him out of the library, book still in hand.

“I have been better.” Cas said, as he resolutely tugged Sam towards the bunker’s bedrooms. That seemed to be all he had to say on the matter.

When they reached their destination, Sam had faltered at the doorway to Dean’s room, because it was starting to feel like the kind of weird that he should not be getting into. But Cas was relentless, and _strong_. He didn't even lose momentum, which was a bit of a blow to Sam's pride as he ended up tripping over his own feet trying to resist Cas' pull.

“I require rest.” Cas said, pushing Sam onto Dean’s bed. “I find this almost impossible to achieve due to the nephilim’s discomfort.”

“Something’s wrong with the baby?” Sam got back to his feet at once, ready to take action.

Cas nodded solemnly. “Yes. He does not enjoy isolation. Since Dean is busy fixing the Impala, I require your assistance.”

Cas pushed him back on top of Dean’s covers and didn’t hesitate to crawl after him, curling up beside Sam’s bulk. Before Sam had even registered what was happening, he found himself with an armful of angel, Cas quickly drifting off to sleep with his head on Sam’s chest.

Sam gave his back an awkward pat, and after about five minutes, attempted to wriggle free. Cas, even sleeping, wasn’t having any of it. He tightened his grip until Sam gave up, and relaxed back into the memory foam. Well, he’d researched under worse conditions.

About two hours later when Dean came in, dressed in his blue overalls, dirty rag still in his hands, Sam was deep in the book.

“What... the hell?” he said, glaring at Sam, and using an impressive array of facial expressions to enunciate his confusion and displeasure.

“Don’t look at me, dude, I have no idea. Cas just pulled me outta the library and wouldn’t let me go.” Sam replied, feeling incredibly uncomfortable to be caught snuggling with his brother’s... whatever.

Cas conveniently chose that moment to roll over, sitting up sleepily and revealing an impressive mass of bed-hair.

“Dean,” he said, in that voice he used which made it clear that Dean was his whole universe.

Cas opened his arms, and like a fish on a hook, Dean was reeled in; he seemed to have completely forgotten his ire in the face of his overwhelming love for the angel. He only had eyes for Cas, and vice versa; they were caught up in that complex language of eye communication they’d been using since the moment they met. Sam was starting to feel distinctly uncomfortable, but he was still trapped, since Cas was leaning on his arm.

“Throwing me over for my brother already, Cas?” Dean asked, with only a half-faked chuckle. Sam winced at the implication, and the reminder of Dean’s lack of self-worth.

“Never.” said Cas, completely seriously. When he was close enough, he took hold of Dean’s arm and pulled him onto the bed with them, forcing Sam to shuffle out of the way to make room. Dean seemed mollified by Cas’ words, but shot a look of confusion at Sam’s continued presence.

“The nephilim requires company.” insisted Cas. “Angels were supposed to be surrounded by love and affection amongst the Host. I did not want to distract you from your work, so I simply used the next best option available to me. The child was calmed by Sam’s proximity and allowed me to rest.”

“That’s good... I guess. You need your rest.” Dean said, his gaze softening. It looked like they’d forgotten Sam was there so he cleared his throat and said;

“Well, I’m glad I could help. I’ll just go-”

“No.” Cas’ head whipped round so fast that Sam would have been afraid he got whiplash, if he was human. “The nephilim is most content like this.”

“Uh, three’s a crowd, Cas. I’m sure Sam has geeky things he needs to do.” Dean glowered at him over the top of Cas’ head and Sam nodded obediently, eager to defuse the ticking time bomb that was his brother.

Cas’ head swivelled back and forth between them, before he settled on looking down at his swollen stomach instead. He wasn’t massive yet, but there was a definite, ample protrusion, and Cas gave it a reverent stroke.

“If you were angels, we would all be rejoicing at a new brother’s creation. The nephilim does not yet understand the difference between grace and souls. I have managed to project the concept of two parents to him, and he understands that Dean and I fill these roles. But at this time he cannot fathom the idea of an uncle. He still views Sam as his older brother.”

“He can think all of that, already?” Dean asked, staring down at Cas’ bump.

“He transmits emotion-based waves. He expresses love and wonder mostly. But lately he has begun to emit a sadder tone. I believe he is pining for Sam, when he is not distracted by his love for Dean and myself.”

It seemed neither Sam nor Dean knew what to say to that, and so Cas got his wish. He snuggled down between the two brothers, and began to describe the hum of the baby’s grace. It wasn’t long before Sam forgot to be uncomfortable.

\---

It turns out, Sam was half right about Cas giving birth to a ball of light. He’d not had contractions; one morning he’d simply cocked his head to one side, as though listening to some frequency Sam and Dean’s puny human hearing couldn’t pick up on. Then he said it was time, and retreated back to his and Dean’s bedroom. Apparently the baby's ‘sinusoidal wave’ had started oscillating at a different frequency to Castiel, which meant that the baby was now its own wavelength of intent and no longer reliant on Cas.

Cas sat down on Dean’s bed. He removed his replacement overcoat and shirt, to reveal the grace glowing underneath the his skin of his stomach. Dean stoked trembling fingertips across the scorching flesh. Cas had insisted that this action be performed by both of them together, as it would ensure the baby formed his own vessel, in a bid to protect Dean from raw grace. Cas took hold of Dean’s hand, and together they plunged into the distended flesh of Cas’ abdomen. It was a very similar process as to when Cas performed a soulonoscopy: only when they pulled their hands back out, a naked, but completely clean, newborn was wriggling in their grasp.

They had clothes set out already, which Sam grabbed hold of while Cas shifted the baby into his bare arms, like he’d seen in the video tutorials Sam had suggested he watch on Youtube. The baby was silent but sentient, gazing up at them with huge green eyes; further proof of his non-human status, because they should have been blue that later changed to green to reflect his biology. Dean seemed to be fighting back tears when Sam handed over the teeny tiny white onesie and power-blue hat.

Once he was dressed and protected from the elements, the three of them sat in awe, one either side of Cas, radiating in the child’s presence. He had tiny little fingernails at the tips of his tiny little fingers, which Dean rubbed over with the pad of one thumb. The child accepted the offering, quickly curling his newly-made fingers around Dean’s digit.

“You got a strong grip, son.” Dean mumbled, half-choked with emotion.

Cas took pity on him, leaning to his left to give Dean a swift and gentle kiss of reassurance. From his place in Cas’ arms, the baby took it all in, seeming content to stare at them all day without making a peep.

“What’s his name?” whispered Sam, when they separated.

Dean looked to his angel; “Cas?”

Cas smiled, the expression a combination of love and pride. Cas leaned down and pressed a solemn kiss to the child’s forehead; a angel’s baptism. There was a twinkle in his eye when he said with a loving, gravelly tone; “His name is Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Stella Creationem (latin) "star formation"/"birth of a star"
> 
>  
> 
> [Sequel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1649387)


End file.
